Who are you?
by vinelady
Summary: Can anyone really say what will happen when they wake up that morning? Not Nargile, and though he thinks the day will be boring, I think that something... odd will happen. Of course, in Wonderland, where everything is backwards and upside-down, can you really say that anything is odd?


Nargile was having a rather ordinary day, and expected the day to continue on in that strain. Nothing much ever happened to him, unfortunately. When he was young he had had grand ideas of traveling across the seven continents, meeting interesting folk, but alas, these days he did nothing. He did not go on adventures or meet interesting folk; he only stayed with Blue all day, just sitting around, making conversation.

However, Nargile was wrong. Today he would meet a rather interesting person.

Sweet-smelling smoke billowed around Nargile as he sat in the crook of one of Blue's rather agile arms. Nargile and Blue spent most days like this. Blue was content to just laze the day away, and Nargile admitted that it was nice, but secretly, Nargile wanted to see something new.

There was a crash a little ways off, and Nargile could hear footsteps making their way towards where Nargile and Blue sat. The mushroom beneath them tilted a little, and a small pale face could be seen peering up at them with wide blue eyes. Nargile thought it particularly lucky that this person should find them. Perhaps something fun would happen.

Blue and the girl, for the pale face belonged to a little girl, stared at each other for quite a while. Finally Blue maneuvered Nargile to more easily speak around him.

"Who are _you_?" asked Blue sleepily.

The girl stammered. "I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I _was_ when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then."

Nargile would have given anything to ask just what the devil she meant by that. She really didn't make a lick of sense. Nargile wondered if all little girls seemed to speak in riddles, or if it was only ones with such clean pinafores. Thankfully, Blue asked just what Nargile was thinking:

"What do you mean by that?" Blue asked sternly, unfolding two arms to rest on his hips. "Explain yourself!"

"I ca'n't explain _myself_, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself, you see."

Nargile thought that perhaps there was not as much behind those bright blue eyes as he originally believed.

"I don't see." Blue frowned at the girl.

"I'm afraid I ca'n't put it more clearly," the little girl said, rather too politely for anyone who came from these parts. Nargile got the feeling that the girl was from far away. He wondered if she was on an adventure. Part of him hoped that she would take him with her when she left, he did _so_ want to explore the world. "for I ca'n't understand it myself, to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing."

Ahhh, that explained a lot. Nargile remembered the first time he had been shrunk, it had been very discombobulating, and he could understand why the girl would be confused, but she shouldn't be so confused to spout such upside-down statements.

"It isn't," contradicted Blue.

Nargile wanted to point out that he agreed, if only slightly, with the little girl, but he let it go.

"Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet, but when you have to turn into a chrysalis—you will some day, you know—and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?"

Nargile worried momentarily about Blue metamorphosing and leaving him behind, but then he remembered that Blue needed him. Blue would never go _anywhere_ without Nargile.

"Not a bit," contradicted Blue.

"Well, perhaps _your_ feelings may be different," said the little girl, "all I know is, it would feel very queer to _me_."

"You!" cried Blue indignantly, "Who are _you_?"

Nargile would have like to shake his head. They were right where they had begun.

Blue always did this. He would question and question until they returned full-circle. Nargile had gotten used to Blue's confusing way of questioning, but he was still exasperated when Blue scared other people off with it.

The little girl frowned in irritation, "I think you ought to tell me who _you_ are, first."

"Why?" Blue asked.

Nargile wanted to roll his eyes. _For heaven's sake, Blue, it is merely polite._ But, Blue had never been one to be polite for politeness's sake.

Not surprising Nargile in the least, the little girl spun on her heal and stormed off.

"Come back!" Blue called, "I've something important to say!"

_Don't be rude, and people won't run away_.

The girl returned.

"Keep your temper," said Blue.

_Oh, Blue. Be nice._

"Is that all?" the little girl asked. Nargile was particularly proud of the small creature for standing up to Blue, who was usually so snippy.

"No," said Blue. Then, Blue took a break from talking to mellow himself again. The sweet-smelling smoke issued from Blue's nose with his exhale hit Nargile, but he didn't much mind. Blue finally continued, "So you think you're changed, do you?"

_No, Blue, she said it just to intrigue you._

"I'm afraid I am, Sir. I ca'n't remember things as I used—and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!"

"Ca'n't remember _what_ things?" Blue asked the girl, in a way that Nargile thought was particularly insensitive. What if the little girl couldn't remember her own hair color? _It's a rather rude question to ask someone, Blue._

"Well," the little girl continued sadly, "I've tried to say '_How doth the little busy bee_,' but it all came different!"

Nargile thought that _did_ seem like a rather horrible thing to have happen to you.

"Repeat '_You are old, Father William_,' " said Blue, after which the little girl recited an intriguing version of '_You are old, Father William_.' Nargile wasn't quite sure he liked it. He wondered if all strangers were this… well… strange.

When the little girl finished, Blue said in a rather haughty tone, "That is not said right."

"Not _quite_ right, I'm afraid. Some of the words have got altered."

Nargile thought that this was a particularly cruel understatement. He would never be able to look at '_You are old, Father William_' quite the same way ever again.

"It is wrong from beginning to end," Blue agreed heartily. There was a pause as both Blue and the girl became lost in thought.

Finally: "What size do you want to be?" Blue asked.

"Oh, I'm not particular to size," the girl quickly replied, "only one doesn't like changing so often, you know."

"I _don't_ know," Blue contradicted. The girls said nothing. Perhaps she wasn't used to Blue's abrupt nature. "Are you content now?" asked Blue.

"Well, I should like to be a _little_ larger, Sir, if you wouldn't mind. Three inches is such a wretched height to be."

Nargile almost winced. Blue was three inches tall and very sensitive about his height. Blue had always been the shortest in his family, and he did not like it one bit. Of course, he didn't admit to not liking height, which explained his next comment rather nicely.

"It is a very good height indeed!" Blue responded, puffing out his chest.

"But I'm not used to it!" defended the poor girl pitifully.

"You'll get used to it in time," Blue harrumphed. He brought Nargile closer, breathing in the aroma of tobacco smoke.

_Now, Blue, that's no way for a caterpillar of your age to act towards a child. _

_ I suppose,_ Blue replied. He yawned, got off the mushroom and began walking little girl watched Blue cautiously."One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter," Blue said cryptically.

_You could do better than that. The poor girl just wants to grow_, Nargile thought.

"Of the mushroom," Blue continued, and soon Nargile and Blue were out of sight of the girl.

_I hope she finds what she's searching for_, Nargile thought to Blue, no longer having any wish to go gallivanting across the globe in search of interesting people. One interesting little girl was enough to last a lifetime. Plus, he was happy here with Blue.

"I'm sure," Blue replied, breathing in more smoke, "that that girl will find exactly what she needs, if not exactly what she wants."

Nargile seemed to sigh, letting the smoke in his bowl mellow Blue enough to make him malleable.

_I guess that will have to be enough_. _Alas,_ thought Nargile to himself, _the life of a little girl must be much more difficult than that of a hookah; even one that _is_ owned by such a difficult caterpillar._

**Nargile** (**nahr**-g_uh_-lee), _noun___: a Middle Eastern tobacco pipe in which the smoke is drawn through water before reaching the lips; hookah.


End file.
